


This Is Fine

by LittleDesertFlower



Category: RWBY
Genre: Cutesy, F/F, One Shot, Volume 2 (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 02:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12998250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleDesertFlower/pseuds/LittleDesertFlower
Summary: She’d do anything for Yang. Anything… Even dance.(find me at @fic_flower)





	This Is Fine

She can hear the noise inside the building. And she doesn’t like it. She likes the book she was reading two weeks ago when she had free time and a functioning mind. She likes the work she was doing in the library, even if Yang doesn’t approve of it. She likes high places and solitude and silence. Not … this. Whatever this is.

 _A school dance? Really?_ she scolds herself. But she’s here now. She supposes she could scurry away into the night like a black cat hiding in the shadows, but Yang would probably find her anyway, and drag her back in. So, really, logically, she has no choice but to lowkey reluctantly wait for her here by the door.

It’s not so bad. She’s just tired. She can do this.

When Yang emerges from the darkness in a white dress, and her hair is half-down in a cascade of carefully combed blonde curls, Blake almost collapses against the wall—that’s how it goes in her head, at least. There’s no way she’ll ever show _that much_ weakness in public. Even if that public is the reason she’s weak.

And what’s more, Yang hesitates all of half a second before she wraps a giddy arm around Blake’s waist and pulls her into a quick cute kiss. Just to say hi. Blake is sure, right there right now, that she will never get used to how toe-curlingly good this is. And how new. Maybe in ten years she’ll stop thinking of it as new, but it’ll always be life-changing.

Yang is, after all, life changing. For better or worse. A once-in-a-lifetime kind of acquaintance.

“You’re sure about this?” Blake asks her when she finally regain some control over herself and leaves Yang’s adorable mouth alone.

“Damn right, I am,” Yang replies, “are you, Blakey? You looking a little …” She makes a pause for effect. Blake can already see what’s coming, but she can’t help but smile anyway before it happens, “ _bleak_.”

And Yang crackles up on her own because she herself is the best audience for her puns, wipes the stray tears off her eyes from laughing, and wraps an arm around Blake like they were perfectly ready to infiltrate a wedding and kill the bad guys trying to ruin it. In a way, they are. They’re the dynamic-duo kind of girlfriends who are there to save the day. Only there’s no day to save, only a door to cross and a night to face head-on.

“Isn’t it going to be … weird?” Blake asks, her eyebrow already rising a little too much.

Yang snorts. “Oh I don’t know, is it?” And she grins. Her entire face is eaten away by that ridiculous grin that she knows—oh she _knows_ —can get her anywhere. Yang could grin like that at Blake and Blake would do anything. So, to be perfectly fair, Blake is kind of glad Yang is pulling this card just to get her to go to a dance.

“Yang, it’s not funny,” she snaps, though. She has to stay calm through this, or else she’ll give in to the grinTM.

“A little funny?” Yang says, and she’s already losing her shit at Blake’s quickly changing expression. She was soft for such a short amount of time, and now she’s getting grumpy and socially awkward, and Yang loves it. Maybe in a couple of years, after Beacon, she’ll stay in with Blake by day, hair in a loose bun and lazily looking at old pictures, and there won’t be a single worry on their minds. And then by night Blake would go out to the chilliness under the stars to get a taste of what’s out there, and maybe they’d fight whatever was out there together.

But right now she wants to open those doors and show the world just how fucking fantastic quiet and solitary and grumpy Blake is. And how much it means that they’re both here tonight.

Blake wrinkles her brow and crosses her arms, even with Yang’s own arm still there, clinging to her.

“No,” she says. But she has to admit, at least to herself if she was watching from an outsider’s perspective, that it is pretty funny. Her in a dress, with Yang, about to cross the threshold into something that scares her and excites her just as much.

Yang momentarily leaves her side to push the door open with one strong arm, and they walk in.

“Weiss! Weeeeeiss!!” Ruby shouts through the loud music as she runs to Weiss, who’s demurely taken a seat away from the dancing and the people who have dates. Today, that’s a pretty good distinction. There’s people with dates, who are dancing or talking or doing something fun, and there’s people without dates, sitting where Weiss is sitting and done pretending this night is being fun. At least that’s how it feels to her.

If anything, Weiss is a dateless person who’s there more to chaperon. Chaperon who? The fifteen-year-old kid that’s already bounced off every wall (and person) in the entire ballroom like three times already. She keeps coming back, though. With her bright eyes and happy face and rosy cheeks.

Weiss rolls her eyes at her.

“What?” she says. “What’d you want _now_?”

“Look!” Ruby giggles, pointing at the entrance door as she stands on her tippy toes. Weiss tugs at her skirt to remind her to be _normal_. And she fails, of course.

“What on Remnant—” Weiss’s lips make an ‘o’ when she sees.

The lights might be bright enough to confuse the senses, and the music is definitely not helping with reality-perception, but there is absolutely no doubt whatsoever that those are Yang and Blake. And not _just_ Yang and Blake, but Yang _and_ Blake holding hands. And for two girls who more often than not bicker just to prove they’re the alfa of the group, _holding hands_ is almost as good as shouting to the world that now the pissing contests are going to be on a much much bigger scale. Weiss would like to roll her eyes again, but between Ruby with her excited eyes and bouncing and Yang and Blake’s slap-happy faces, Weiss just can’t help but smile a little too. Her entire team has made it, and they all look so happy…

“Oh…” she manages.

“They’re—” Ruby gasps.

“TOGETHER _TOGETHER_!!” butts in the familiar and strident voice of Nora, right behind Ruby.

“Where’d _you_ come from?” Weiss exclaims, momentarily scared. She sits back straight on the chair and smooths her skirt as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“They’re holding haaaaands!” Ruby gushes about the obvious, but whether to herself or to them, Weiss has no idea.

“Yyyyyup!” Nora says, beaming at the happy couple walking in.

 

“They’re staring,” Blake points out. They’ve moved to a little corner by the door, possibly because Yang knows Blake might just get startled and run away. And it’s cute, that Yang just … knows that stuff, and that she doesn’t mind.

Having been a flight risk all her life, Blake is used to being alone because people can’t take it when she runs. But Yang… Yang paves the way for her in case she needs to go. It’s disconcerting, to say the least. And… heart-warming.

Yang’s violet eyes are soft and giddy with enthusiasm that’s slightly different from the one she typically sports. Yang is all fired up energy and anger and the strongest emotions in the book, and she lets that on through her eyes. Tonight, they’re twinkling under the neon lights of the room, and they’re calm like the sea in a windless, sunny day.

“’Cause we look _killer_ ,” Yang says.

Blake makes a face. “Yang, I have _bags_ under my eyes.” And bitten nails because of the stress. And her arms hurt from all the training she’s doing on top of research. And a pounding heart, and two left feet. She’s normally graceful on anything, even high heels, but for no apparent reason, her legs are like jelly now. She tries hard not to give in and lean on Yang, and does a wonderful job at first. _Stoic, Blake_.

Yang notices the split second in which Blake’s face becomes a little more sullen again, and grabs at her hand, firmly. She squeezes. Blake could practically just live on the feeling that hand on hers strings right out of her cold black heart like it’s music. “You look nice, relax…”

“You … too,” Blake says, smiling a little.

With a quick look around at all the people in there, Blake realizes how much Yang is itching to get out from the shadows and under the spotlight. And if she’d had any doubts about that, they vanish when Yang grins at her again and says: “Shall we dance, kitty cat?”

“No—”

“Yeah, let’s dance,” Yang says, pulling gently at her so she’ll follow. Her laughter is crystalline and just as refreshing as the tiny stream of water that’s birthed from the thawing of a frozen river. “Come on.”

“I don’t dance…” Blake manages to get out, but she’s walking side by side with Yang, not exactly being _pulled_ anymore. That hand on hers is the reason she’s able to take step after step and keep walking in a straight line. Those fingers curling around her own are the reason she’s willing to do this, just so she can feel them on her a little longer.

“Good. I can teach ya.” Yang’s lips curve into a childish pout, and then a smirk that sends Blake’s common sense flying out of the window. “Do this for me? We can leave early later, hm? How’s that sound?”

Blake rolls her eyes and breathes out.

“Fine. _One_ dance,” she says. Her eyes meet Yang’s and even though Blake is dying to look away at safer spots, she holds her gaze long enough. Her voice softens after that. She can’t keep playing tough if her ankles are shaking and her breath feels shallow because she just wants to take in so much more air… “The dance I owe you.”

Yang nods emphatically and positions herself. This is the girl that gets information out of bad guys by flirting and fight-dancing at the speed of Ruby’s semblance. Watching her get ready for slow-dancing feels like slow-motion in itself. And unavoidably, Blake’s eyes settle for one second and one second only on the beautiful shape that’s half-concealed under all that silky white fabric.

“Here, just ...” Yang says, torn between laugher and soft concern for a shaky partner who’s never danced in her life. “I don’t know, just hold me.” Blake does, tentatively. Putting arms around Yang’s waist is easy, processing the fact that she _is_ and that Yang’s warm and solid under there—still a powerful force even if she’s hiding it under all that pretty face at the moment—is _not_. “And we sway. _Theeeere_ we go!” At this, Yang just chuckles again. Blake is as stiff as a tree trunk. “But… maybe look alive, Blake. A little.”

“I’m doing my _best,_ ” Blake mutters, looking down at her feet. She has Yang’s soft and strong arms on each side of her neck, on her shoulders. It’s going to be a little harder than anticipated to move with the music if all she can _move_ with is Yang’s breaths and laugh. That is a beat she can dance to.

“Wonderful. You’re doing wonderful,” Yang says, still laughing a little in between words. “Tell me a little more about yourself.” Her tone is so damn professional and so accurate in reminding Blake of a job interview that all she can do is take a deep breath to keep from laughing. She’s lost now if she would laugh at Yang’s jokes out loud. This is a disaster.

“You’re impossible,” Blake says flatly. She bites her lower lip to keep from smiling, “did you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Yang says. “You’re impossible _back_!”

“I hate you.”

“Ha! Hate ya back.” This is good, Yang is enjoying the flirty banter. Yang is happy. She’s smiling and she’s playing her favorite game, and this is fine.

 _This is fine,_ Blake tells herself as she breathes out again, hoping it’s not too loud for Yang to pick up what’s going on inside her head.

Unsurprisingly, Yang doesn’t have to read anything off Blake’s thoughts, because as luck would have it, Blake’s brain, on cruise control, just adds to her previous statement the only possible thing to say:

“I love you,” she just says.

“I love you back—Wait, _what???_ ” And because it’s been uttered just as her bickery ‘I hate you’, it takes Yang a while to register what’s just happened. And when she does, Yang’s entire face lights up, and her eyes shine brighter, and her smile is the softest thing Blake has ever seen. She wants to protect that smile forever. Keep it safe from harm. Keep it alive. She’d do anything for Yang. Anything… Even dance.

And Yang, in all her enthusiastic reaction to that, just pulls Blake a little closer and grins at her like only Yang can.

They both fall abnormally quiet and meek and giggly after, studying each other’s faces without hands—although they ache to—and sharing unsung words and unshed tears of joy. Communicating just through sight. But it’s easy: they only see each other.

 

Across the dance floor, Weiss is nervously jiggling her right leg. She briskly looks away when Blake and Yang start smiling at each other like they’d never had a crush in their lives before and eventually kiss, apparently oblivious to the fact that there’s more people in the room. This isn’t something she wants to see, something she wants to be reminded of. She’s Weiss Schnee, she’s one of the most proficient students at Beacon Academy, she’s been able to survive more things than she’d even thought she could take. But she’s alone tonight. And people she’s close to are not. And it stings a little.

 _No,_ she thinks to herself, _I can’t cry here. I will_ not _cry here._

Ruby’s voice saves her from her own imminent tears. “Weiss…” she says, a little bit sheepishly. A little more carefully than as usual, a little more softly.

Weiss doesn’t roll her eyes this once. She’s tired even for that. And it’s still early, maybe she should just head up to the room and chill there until the night is over. It’s been disastrous anyway.

When Weiss doesn’t say anything back to her, Ruby loses all the scant resolve she had and goes from being the literal exemplification of ‘sugar rush’ to meekly staring at her shoes.

“Would you— _may_ be—want to dance with me?” she finally asks Weiss, who stares at her for what feels like a full minute, heart racing, before she gulps audibly and nods, offering Ruby her hand so Ruby will help her up.

Ruby smiles warmly at her, and Weiss almost smiles back. Instead, she rolls her eyes for real this time and urges Ruby to get going like she normally would, like they’re both late for class and this is just another normal day. The somersaults her stomach is doing have nothing to do with routine, though.

They’re already halfway there, close to the center of the room, a couple of dancing lovey-dovey birds away from Blake and Yang, who are still pretty much unaware they’re surrounded by people, when Weiss hears Nora yell excitedly:

“OH MY GOD, THIS IS _HAPPENIIIING_!”

**Author's Note:**

> my outline for this was basically texts with a friend of mine during a particularly emotional "what if Blake and Yang became a thing before the dance" day. There were screamy headcanons being shouted back and forth that morning XD  
> screamy headcanons fuel me hehehe


End file.
